A Ranking of Every The 1975 Album
An ultimate ranking for one of my favorite bands? "This must be my dream!"
Whenever I’m bored, I write about The 1975. For some reason, this band has been a huge inspiration for me, allowing me to figure out my own path to professional music criticism and review. They may just be some British indie pop band to you, but unfortunately they are so much more to me.
I reviewed and ranked every album on the official discography of The 1975. As I revisited each album while I wrote their review, I changed their places in this list almost too many times, never quite settling with a “correct order.” Probably because I love each one for different reasons, and a ranking sometimes misrepresents the value I personally give to them.
This is the best I could come up with. Enjoy 5 pages of deep analysis on some British indie pop band.
5. Self-Titled (2013): Nostalgia-freaks, hold your knives. Self-Titled will always famous; “Girls”, “Robbers”, “Chocolate”, “She Way Out”, and “Sex” will always be the songs that define the band and be cited by fans as some of the best. “Antichrist”, whether Healy likes it or not, is easily their best song both lyrically and musically—no song has ever been able to capture the exact uneasy, ethereal beauty of this one—and that came from the deluxe version of this album. They’re fusing pop with alt/indie/garage rock that became the soundtrack of the 2010s, and they put their name on the map alongside established giants like Arctic Monkeys with this historic piece of music. Lastly, the production and sound are solid; it’s extremely hard to be able to design a sound that has depth both through a speaker and in headphones, and The 1975 figured that out pretty quickly in their career. Furthermore, having instrumental tracks that combined live strings and electronic synths was bold and effective. This was what made The 1975 unique: beautiful swelling strings, harmonized vocals that rattled your bones, and aesthetically pleasing lyrics and visuals. Credit is given where credit is due; Self-Titled has forever influenced the indie rock/pop genre.
However, at this current point in The 1975’s history, Self-Titled is just a greatest hits album. The only cohesion in the album is the plucky spirit behind each song—we love songs evidently written by a cool teenage boy from Manchester—and the sound design. Other than that, it’s an album full of singles; there is not much else to say. People listen to it when they want a convenient way to listen to all the mentioned songs in one place. It’s an album that functions either in its proper order or on shuffle mode, which I find weak compared to the later albums, which expertly flow from one song to the next to tell the whole story of the work. There is no story here—they’re just the first batch of songs by this new band—so it’s not the best. “Antichrist”, however, will always be the best.
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4. Notes on a Conditional Form (2020) – Let me be clear: I do not think this album is bad. I believe that it came out at the correct moment in cultural history—its scattered explosion of genres perfectly complemented the disjointed nature of 2020—and as a predominately house music album, it was very strong. The narrative of Notes resonated deeply with both me and the band: it closed off the “Music For Cars” era both sonically and lyrically. For longtime fans of The 1975, this album had witty, lyrical callbacks to previous hit songs, often dispelling false claims within them or making fun of their younger selves.
Musically, the mega-orchestra in the instrumental tracks combined all the sounds from the previous three albums, bolstering the main theme of attempting to answer or challenge every inquiry or statement made before. This choice bridged the gap between the albums, allowing the viewer to understand that, while the sound and introduction are huge departure from the music of the Self-Titled era, there are still some traces of their original work. Furthermore, with the introduction of house music and more techno-inspired tracks, the sound cannot be dismissed as “bad.” They’re clean, effective, catchy, and more subdued, giving the album the sobriety it needs to balance out the wilder, more intense tracks. Notes is beautiful and culturally poignant, and it demonstrated that popular, big-name bands like The 1975 can have an intelligent perspective on cultural, political, and social debates that still remains self-aware of the privilege that influences their opinions.
My critiques of this album are that some songs are just…weak. I can name a few songs that, unlike some of the others that employ an emo-esque lyrical style, are 100% intended to be taken seriously, and 100% ridiculous because of that. “People”, for instance, was intended to be this big, harsh-noise, punk rock statement: Matty Healy is nauseated by apathy, angry at politicians for wanting to kill us all, frightened by climate change, overwhelmed by consumer culture and social media addiction. Sure, sonically this is completely new territory and good: I think Healy adopts the screamo voice well, and the band steps it up with this grittier sound. However, nothing is particularly “deep” or “new” about its lyrics. What did he say here that he did not say better in A Brief Inquiry into Online Relationships? Yes, the band has grown up and wizened up a lot since Self-Titled, but the lyrics (and I’m so sorry to admit) hold opinions people realize at 15 years old.
Another song that I find weak is “Jesus Christ 2005 God Bless America.” Again, strong title—I thought the song was going to be some kind of maximalist, metaphorical piece that tied cultural decadence to evangelism to American exceptionalism when they first revealed it—but literal and superficial lyrics. It’s a song about Healy feeling (non-)religious guilt, also making it commentary about American exceptionalism that’s culturally fused with all the baggage of Evangelicalism. But if I wanted to hear a song about atheism and the damaging influence religion had on social relations, I’d listen to “If I Believe You.” Here, he makes no attempt at exploring these feelings in creative ways; and while I have no qualms against simplicity, the lack of complex lyrics for a complex topic disappointed me upon listening.
However, a lot of the songs are very strong— “Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy)” is my underrated favorite, and “If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)” is one of the best songs by The 1975—and the album in general is much more put together than past critics have thought. The reason why it is low on the ranking, however, is that all the attempts to push the boundaries and create something new sometimes fell a little too hard into the literal territory, cheapening the overall effect of the album.
3. Being Funny in a Foreign Language (2022): The whole point of this album was to signify change: the introduction song changed completely (it’s no longer the “Go down / Soft sound” melody that began albums 1–3, but a 4-minute track with new lyrics), the band adopted an easier, poppier sound, and the subject matter is much more mature. In many ways, The 1975 returned to the bops we knew and loved from the Self-Titled era (“Happiness,” “I’m In Love With You,” and “Oh Caroline” capture this well). From the perspective of lore, “About You” continued the narrative arc of the “Robbers” trilogy first established in the instrumental track “An Encounter” (Self-Titled), where the band manipulated the original score, rephrased original lyrics, and now looked back at the time instead of living in the moment. This album wasn’t written for new fans; it was not written for pop music stations, critics, or award shows. Instead, it was written for the band—a personal statement reflecting on their own fame and how it changed all their relationships—and the people who enjoyed it the most are the fans like me.
The production was tight, and while I was, at first, extremely nervous about the fact that they allowed Jack Antonoff to work on the album, his contribution still constructed a solid piece of music. Much to the band’s credit, one cannot really tell that it’s Antonoff’s production, making the sound of the album still authentic to The 1975. A lot of the Antonoff AlbumsTM (basically anything after Taylor Swift’s Lover (2019) but excluding Lana Del Rey’s albums and his solo project Bleachers) of the past three years have fallen into this boring formula: glittery hi-hats, overlaid and dissonant harmonies, an almost too-polished indie pop sound, and at least one orchestral section. I can tell that in Being Funny in a Foreign Language, Healy and George Daniel—who usually does the production and composition alongside Healy—still had a lot of creative control over the sound design and the overall feel of the album. While their personal tastes complement Antonoff’s extremely well (i.e., the orchestra and blend of live and electronic music), their vision was able to rein their producer’s in, and they created a standout of an album compared to the other Antonoff AlbumsTM.
Furthermore, the lyrics themselves were so true to The 1975’s identity and public persona. The songs were super catchy, easy to listen to, and fun to sing either at home or in concert. I personally lost my mind at the completely new introduction song; the band had moved completely on from their younger selves romanticizing…well, everything, and they recognize that the goal of the band now is to actively engage with and define the culture. “I’m In Love With You” was my favorite song of 2022 and never failed to make me stop everything and dance; plus, the bridge is one of their best bridges to date. What better way to have a fun, silly time than to have an excuse to scream, “Don’t fuck it, YOU MUPPET! IT’S NOT THAT DEEP!”
My only reason for placing it at #3 is that, while there are a lot of narrative changes in this album, the return to the older sound (only much happier) did not offer anything precisely new. It sounds like The 1975 album, which is great, but the following two albums have done that and more.
2. I Like It When You Sleep, For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware Of It (2016): This album is the epitome of anti-pop, which I define as an opposition to mainstream pop music while adopting much of that genre’s sounds and motifs in the music. It’s much bolder than Self-Titled and attempts to show more interest in the world—answering the band’s own questions on how they are meant to engage with celebrity culture, societal expectations, and political discourse while also dealing with their personal struggles—and it does so extremely well. The funk and disco influences perfectly complement their even more glittery approach to electronic synth music, and the instrumental arrangements, paired with the subdued electronica, created some of their best instrumental tracks. The album, while it explores the grotesque, sad, and apathetic parts of the music industry, still retains an essence of beauty. In other words, the band sat down, said “What would sound like the color baby pink?” and rolled with it, giving us the bubbly, groovy tracks like “UGH!” “She’s American,” “The Sound,” and “Love Me;” the introspective, sobering songs like “If I Believe You,” “Change of Heart,” “Loving Someone,” and “Paris;” as well as the gorgeous instrumental tracks that take up the entire room like “Please Be Naked,” “Lostmyhead,” and the titular track.
The pacing of the album is almost perfection: the songs flow into each other magically, and the balance between bops and slow songs feels like a perfect marriage. For instance, going from a groovy tune about cocaine addiction (“UGH!”) to a classic breakup song (“A Change of Heart”) to a funny yet slightly misogynistic diss-track about Halsey of all people (“She’s American”) would be challenging to make work. However, by maintaining a sense of humor in the lyrics, by adopting similar instruments and sound editing, and by keeping it modern and electronic, the song transitions ease you into different moods. In other words, understanding album logic been a major improvement since their debut, and you can certainly notice it.
Healy’s voice is also undoubtedly incredible and a standout feature in this album. First, you can actually make out the lyrics, which, though a charming feature of the first album, makes it much easier to enjoy and appreciate for their wit and humor. I’m also not immune to men screaming, so the harmony at the end of “Change of Heart,” “She’s American,” as well as the entirety of “Ballad of Me and My Brain” sound exceptional and scratch a very specific part of my brain. Lastly, even the gentler, lower registers he sometimes sings in for the slower songs give the album variety, offering moodier and more haunting melodies that also become memorable in their discography’s legacy.
The best bridge ever written by The 1975 came out of this album, and I find it so hilarious that it’s about Ashley Nicolette Frangipane (again, of all people!). As a hilarious menace once said, “Well, your face has got a hold on me / But your brain is proper weird / Are you feeling the same? / You just keep nodding at me looking vacant!”
1. A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships (2018): I know this is not the obvious choice for #1 (everyone will probably put I Like It When You Sleep there), but listen. This album is the best because it was a fundamental turning point in the career of the band. Its overall theme, sound, and production demonstrates the true intelligence of the artists on a whole new level. A Brief Inquiry, in my opinion, is the beginning of seeing The 1975 as more than musicians: they are artists well-versed in conceptual music and storytelling, and the way they balance personal with the political in this album pushes into the realm of almost an avant-garde kind of art, even if they’re selling to a pop audience.
The whole thesis of A Brief Inquiry is to play with the idea of finding authenticity and in a world increasingly dependent on technology for communication. Each song (minus the theme song) explores a different relationship, and how different parts of today’s culture have either made it difficult to find love or outright stale and meaningless. I was following this era closely when it came out, and I remember that one of the ‘goals’ Healy set out to do with the lyrics, themes, and sound was to show how politics and culture have intertwined, becoming inseparable to a point where they choke out meaningful dialogue and real human relationships. I can still say this is the 1975’s strongest and most thought-out argument to-date. Everything about A Brief Inquiry—the instrumentation, the order of the songs, the lyrics, and the visual aspect—fits the central narrative so well, and of all the albums The 1975 has to offer, this is the one where no song is out of place.
The most striking feature of A Brief Inquiry is the progression of the music, specifically the balance between live and electronic music. If you listen closely to the introduction song, for instance, the pitches of the harmonies are artificially tuned, with some even purposefully out-of-place to really emphasize the lack of humanity behind it. Right away are we placed in between the “real” and the “unreal”: our right ear is focused on this jazz-lounge piano playing the theme from heart, reminiscing on the early days of the first composition of the iconic theme song, yet the left is overwhelmed with a raspy, warped repetition of the same lyrics we’ve heard before. As the album continues, The 1975 establishes a musical journey: the songs gradually become overtaken by technology until the purely artificial climax of “The Man Who Married A Robot / Love Theme,” then it slowly reintroduces live instruments until the 90s rock ballad-esque finale of “I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes),” where no technological aspect is used at all.
The lyrics are very strong here, and since it was the first semi-concept album by The 1975, I have to give credit to their story-telling abilities. From the poppy vapid “TOOTIMETOOTIMETOOTIME” to the earnest, ballad-y “I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)”, this album is the first (and really only) one to show incredible lyric range. The metaphor in “It’s Not Living” is intelligent, and it serves as an excellent criticism of previous songs’ idealization of drugs and reckless behavior, and the poem of “Man Who Married A Robot,” complemented by the text-to-speech voice that reads it is another excellent piece.
If you made it to the end and want to know what all this insane rambling was all about, listen to my curated playlist, giving you the essential tracks (as well as some underrated bangers) from each album.* Try not to listen on shuffle to understand the progression of their sound.
*You will need a Spotify account to enjoy this playlist. Sorry in advance.
Header editing by author. All provided images of the album covers have been credited underneath the corresponding photos. Lede includes the lyrics to “This Must Be My Dream” (I like it when you sleep…)